


Cape May Desperation

by cantletgo



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Desperation, F/M, Hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 21:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6675550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantletgo/pseuds/cantletgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate version of S3ep19 "Cape May." In this short story, Red battles between reality and fantasy when he has hallucinations of Lizzie being alive and with him at Cape May.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Agape

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first posted fanfic and it's a little rough but I was so inspired by meetmeatthecoda's (on Tumblr) prompts that I had to write something!

He breathed her in so deeply it hurt. It was better than opium, a cure for his soul. She felt so real in his arms, on that rug, in this decrepit memory lost in time. He needed her to be real and so she was. For a fleeting moment he could feel her velvet skin skim his lips, the hairs on his neck standing at attention. His heart built with pain. The unbearable longing of all the things he never said ate threw his sanity until it was no more. Lost in limbo he gave in to his mad cravings and pulled her closer into his arms. 

“Lizzie,” His lips danced across her ear. 

The emptiness was gone and filled with her scent. His eyes shut in bliss, his hands skimming across her shoulder. Even if this were a cruel illusion created by the depth of his devastating pain, he wouldn’t let go. Never again would he let her go. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, tears sliding down his face. She turned into him, pressing her forehead to his. 

“Raymond, I do love you.” That was all she had to say and he crumbled. 

Her lips lunged at his and his response was just as desperate. The feeling of her body against his was enough to send him spiraling to a point of no return. Rolling on top she straddles him. The color of fire dances on her soft skin. Her beauty blinds him. His hands find her hips and she bends down for another lingering kiss. His hands find the small of her back and trace soft lines alone her spine, his tongue teasing. 

This can’t be real, his thoughts demanding attention. 

You’re lost in delusion, but he doesn’t care. 

He would stay lost in this delusion, in this moment, for the rest of his life if he had the chance. 

But just like that, she’s gone. 

He’s alone again in front of the fire of old, lost in a purgatory of forgotten truth and newfound lies. He wants to scream for her, to call her name and see her dance around the corner returning to their embrace, but he’s no longer lost in delusions. He stares at the fire, the emptiness and devastation crawling back in to fill their place. It’s like it’s happening all over again. Losing her. The wound reopens and gushes with heat, the pain in his chest swelling to new levels of agony. His breathing speeds and he’s lost in the flames of the delirious pain once again. He can do nothing but stare and watch as his the pain burns him alive.

 

__

 

Days pass. Weeks. Still he’s lost in the flames, lost in the nothingness. Eating enough to barely survive and unable to sleep for fear of losing her all over, he’s deteriorating. He doesn’t even notice the knock on the door. Insistent, the knock comes again. He hears nothing, lost in the void. The door bursts open, no longer asking for an invitation. 

__

 

She creeps into the room, scared of what she may find. Kaplan was right after all. Her child would be safer if she was out of the picture. Death was her only option. Except leaving him wasn’t a deal she was ready to make yet. When she finally reached out to Dembe to find Red, he hadn’t heard from him in weeks. One thing led to another and she found herself standing at the door of an old seaside bed and breakfast in Cape May. With dilapidated old doors and battered and beaten shutters, it had a rustic charm of a warm forgotten memory. 

That’s when she saw him for the first time, worse than she could have imagined. Huddled on the floor in front of a dying fire, this shapeless lump that was once her Reddington.

“Red,” she whispered the pain choking her back. 

He didn’t move, still crouched there in front of the fire. Moving closer, she bent down and ran her hands up and down his back, across his shoulders. Still he didn’t move.

__

 

It was so real. He could feel her hands on him again. It took all the strength he could muster to ignore the pandering illusion taunting and prodding at him to turn around and open up once again. He couldn’t physically go through the pain of losing her again. Even in this hallucinogenic state he knew his weakness. Of all the places he’d been, all the injuries he had sustained, and the people he had lost, none had even entered the realm of this one. He wouldn’t turn around, so help whatever God would listen, he would not indulge this illusion. 

But the persistence is maddening. 

He stands, unable to lay here any longer with the memories of an illusion and new madness slowly creeping in. He ignores his jacket, his shoes, and his hat. Meaningless. He walks towards the door and out to the beach.

__

 

He can’t see her. Or maybe he doesn’t want to. No matter what she does, he doesn’t seem to register her presence. 

“Raymond please,” she cries. He doesn’t turn. He doesn’t even flinch at the precious sound of his name on the tip of her tongue. The power and gravity his name carried she was unable to convey, even to herself. Her sobs grew louder as she grasped at his hands, pleading with him to see her. She should have never left him that much was clear. In that moment she knew she vowed to never leave again. She crawled up beside him and lied down, curling her face into his neck. Still, he didn’t move. She wouldn’t give up on him. 

Her lips caressed his neck. His smell was intoxicating. She nipped below his ear and in the divot of his jaw. With tender kisses, she traced the line of his jaw and skimmed her hand across his chest.

Before she could relish in the intimacy he rose to leave. 

“Red,” she cried. Fighting back tears.

He continued his path towards the door, leaving it wide open as he escaped into the sandy abyss.

 

__

She had never seen him this broken. This wasn’t the Raymond Reddington she knew. No, this was a much darker and more desolate side that he kept locked away. As a profiler, she knew that he might suffer some psychological ramifications from her abandonment but she couldn’t imagine anything like this. 

She chased him down the beach in the night while the winds whipped up a storm. The taste of salt and electricity matched the violent waves crashing into the shore. 

“Red!” She cried. Still he ravaged on his warpath to the ocean, taking decisive steps, no longer a passive vessel of pain. He tore through the sand with the strength and determination of a deranged man. She knew nothing good could come of this and she didn’t know what she could do to stop it. 

He began to wade into the water until it lapped at his ankles. The waves crashed as his knees. Liz ran desperately through the sand and into the water until she stood face to face with his darkness. That’s when he saw her, or so she thought.

Their eyes met in a much more powerful storm than nature could ever provide. 

“Red, don’t do this. I’m here. I’m here now.” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she caressed his face. He tilted into the palm of her hand and dipped his eyes closed, relishing in the touch.

 

__

 

Her touch felt so real, but if he was really going through with this he might as well indulge in one last glance. She was wickedly beautiful, wrapped in tears, the waves kneeling before her. His Helen of Troy, the elements at her command, her very look moving mountains within him. 

“Red, don’t do this. I’m here. I’m here now.” The aberration cried. He knew now that without her there was no him. He had died before previous times, different versions of himself with every loss and disaster. New pages were turned and a new man rose from the ashes of the old, but not this time. He was missing a heart and a will to live without her. The pieces of himself that he could tolerate only appeared when he was near her, apart of her, bound to her. This was no life worth living.

“Red if you love me, you won’t do this. You say I’m you’re everything, then don’t do this. Please.” She grips his hand and intertwines their fingers.

What’s the use in talking to an illusion, an extension of his imagination? That’s when she kissed him.

Fever pitched, his body responded passionately. She broke away from the kiss and leaned her forehead to his.

“I’m real and I love you. God, I love you. More than I could have ever imagined. Please come back to me.” 

Even in all his dreams, he could never imagine Lizzie saying such things. His self-loathing ran too deep for such fantasies. Could this be real? Could he allow him to believe in such miracles?

“Lizzie?” he whispered.

“Yes, Red. Come back to me.”

For a moment, he wished for a wave to take him now. He wasn’t sure what was worse, living in the denial or seeing through to the reality. In a fit of exhaustion he fell to his knees, in the night, in solitude, tears, a shapeless lump, bent, crouched there on the sand. Choked with wild cries, belching and desperate. He gave in.

 

“In the night, in solitude, tears, … what shapeless lump is that, bent, crouch’d there on the sand? … Choked with wild cries: …O belching and desperate … none looking” –Fears by Walt Whitman


	2. Fear or Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red wakes to reality, but what kind of reality is waiting for him? He is forced to make a crucial assessment of himself and his new path forward with Lizzie. What is more painful, inaction or consequence? Fear or defeat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any suggestions on what you'd like to see happen next (more prompts?!) or where the story should start heading would be greatly appreciated! Thank you so so much.

He woke to the happy sound of chirping birds and rays of sunlight. The soft sheets cuddled his exhausted body into a sea of pillows. Groggily he blinked open his eyes to assess his surroundings. After all, this wasn’t the first time he’d woken up in a strange place. However, the amenities usually weren’t as nice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure in the bed beside him, a sleeping angel, his Lizzie. If this was Heaven he could stay here forever. He had imagined this moment before but it was never this real, this detailed. Her scent was palpable, every freckle, scar and strand of hair accounted for.

He didn’t want to break the spell, to wake from the dream, but overwhelming thirst forced him to rise. Slipping from the sheets, he looked for a sink. Padding along the hardwood floors of the unfamiliar rustic house, he entered the living room. 

“Raymond,” a startled voice came from the back of the room. Dembe stood quickly with a worried look.

“Dembe, where are we?” He assessed his attire, a plain white undershirt, water-stained pants, and the sticky salt of the sea still clinging to his skin.

“Raymond, you must take it slow. You’re still very weak, please drink something.” Dembe ran to the kitchen and retrieved a large glass of water. Grateful, Raymond quickly downed the glass. If this were a dream, this was certainly not where he wanted to be spending it. Rather than focusing on trivial needs he’d prefer to be back in the bed with his angel.

“Do you remember what happened?” Dembe’s tone was cautious, filled with patience. Seeing his friend so lost had him worried.

“Cape May. The ocean. I kept seeing…” His words trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to say her name out loud, not yet. “I was delirious.” 

“It certainly seemed that way when Elizabeth and I fished you from the tides.”

“Wait.”

“I know it must have been a shock to see her, but I thought it best if she approached you alone.”

“You’re saying that’s really her?” Red could barely form the concept in his mind, a war of emotions exploding inside him.

“This is worse than I originally thought. Yes Raymond, she is very real. She fell asleep waiting for you to wake, she wanted to be the first thing you saw.”

 

Red looked into the eyes of his best friend and knew that he was telling the truth. Part of him didn’t want to believe it, for fear of losing her again. But that part quickly vanished with overwhelming hate for such a deceit. 

“Who knew of this? Who faked the death?” Red’s voice rose and anger dripped from every word, lashing out towards anything they could hit.

“He didn’t know Red,” Liz’s voice filled the room. “No one knew but Kaplan.” 

Red’s eyes filled with pain. He couldn’t force himself to turn and face her. The desperation and desire was too much. The things she must have seen at the house…on the beach…were unbearable.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Dembe rose with one last look of love to Liz. “I’m glad you’re back Elizabeth.” Alone again, the electricity returned. 

“How could…” He didn’t even know what questions to ask. He had always been in control, the one with the plan, the one watching all the pieces fall into place but this time he was utterly helpless. 

“It needed to be done. It was a sacrifice I needed to make for my child, to secure her safe future. I needed to be out of the picture.” Pain stung her voice, clearly the hardest decision she’s ever been forced to make.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…” She moved closer, “not like this.” 

His defense was to adopt his stoic demeanor once more. He wanted to tell a joke or some long drawn-out metaphor about the circle of life and sacrifice but he couldn’t find the words. He couldn’t even manage a smile. He wanted nothing more than to feel her hands against him to know that she was truly real. Thoughts of her admissions on the beach came rushing back at full force and he wondered where the line between reality and fantasy was drawn.

“Raymond,” she whispered his name like a prayer. There it was again, the sweet taste of his name on her lips. 

He leaned back in his chair. It took all the strength he could muster to gather his composure.

“Elizabeth, I’m not sure what happened last night but I can assure you I was not in my right might. I simply had too much to drink. You think I would have learned from that hot night in Barbados back in ’99. Drinking alone and oceans really don’t mix.” 

He could see her visibly shut down. Whatever admissions she had freely given were now taken away. The shared kisses and taste of her skin were still hot on his tongue. It’s all he could think about. He needed to balance the scales and take control of the situation again.  
“Don’t, please.” Her begging is distant and guarded. “Don’t go back.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Taking another sip from the water, the sweat of the glass dripped down his tightly clenched hand.

“I said I loved you Red, doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Liz crosses the room, tentative to reach out to him. 

Silence. He looked straight ahead, avoiding her gaze.

Finally she traced her fingers across his shoulder whispering, “don’t hide from me.” His body trembled at the intimacy of the touch. His calculated and methodical thinking was about to go right out the door if she went any further, but she stopped. The silence ensued.

He was unsure of how to respond. Ultimately he was unsure of how to proceed. He knew now that he really was death for her, death for her child, how could he live with himself if it happened for real this time? He barely survived Cape May and it’s because an angel pulled him from the waters of desperation. Just maybe...

__

“You are my life, my heart, Lizzie. I could never hide from you, that much has to have been made clear last night.” His bluntness took her by surprise. He rose to his feet, only mere inches from her face. 

Her lips were still swollen. Reaching his hand up, his thumb skimmed her bottom lip, slightly parting them. 

“I could never lose you again, do you hear me?” He commanded. She was speechless beneath his touch. He felt her body hovering against his. His anatomy responded.

“I want to kiss you now, completely lucid and aware of the Every. Little. Detail." He pressed her back up against the pale living room wall for support. Planting his leg between her knees, he traced his hands to her hips, pressing her close to his responsive body.

"I want to memorize your taste and the way you feel against my body.” 

He needed control and he found a rush of power in his admissions. They always said the truth would set you free, but he never imagined how strong it would truly be. 

She could only nod, still speechless. The words he held back, that tortured and haunted him, came rushing out before he even realized what was happening, whispered against her ear.

“All my love, you have it. My heart, my life, what’s left of my soul. I’ve never been more myself than when I am with you. I will do anything to protect you. You have me, all of me. I’ve never been more afraid of anything than by how much I need you. I’m so scared of losing you and I don’t know what I can do about it. I nothing without you.” 

__

“Red,” her voice startled him, waking him from his trance.

Those were the words he wanted to say, the ones burning his throat and clawing at his chest. Those were the actions he wanted to take. Instead he stayed completely still in his chair, eyes forward, fist grasping at the cool glass of water like a lifeline.

Taking another sip, he finally met her eyes.

“My life is dedicated to hiding Lizzie. The trick is to hide in plain sight, right under their nose, it’s the last place they’ll look.” He couldn’t even play it off with the smug grin that usually accompanied his tactical sidesteps. 

She didn’t indulge him, merely stood there. He could see the gears in her head turning and grinding, questioning every word they had said and every action they had made up to this point. 

The silence drug out as if they were suspended in an infinity of what if's. Everything in him screamed to be that hero. To sweep her off her feet, to take her to that bedroom and show her exactly what those words meant to him. But he didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He was death. He was pain. 

“Okay,” she finally whispered, hair shielding her eyes. 

She left. 

Red didn’t know what was more painful, inaction or consequence? Fear or defeat? Raymond Reddington was not known for his passivity, for his inability to make decisions, and yet here he was, a statue, frozen. There is a certain safety in the usual, in the comfortable, the everyday. He could slip back into the mundane and continue his work. He could help send her into hiding and that'd be the last of it.

But he’d never had safety, so why start now?

He jolted from seat and lunged for the door, faster than he’d ever moved in his life, heart beating right out of his chest.

__

 

“Even though your words hurt the most. I still want to hear them. Every day. You say let it go, but I can't let it go. I wanna believe every word that you say. For I'm so scared of losing you and I don't know what I can do about it about it. So tell me how long love before you go and leave me here on my own. I know it. I don't want to know who I am without you.” –Agape by Bear’s Den

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really like to see where S3ep19 actually takes us so I can stay closer to Red's actual conclusions from here on out (which will most likely be anger and revenge rather than apathy and insanity). But maybe this direction will be more fun than where this season takes us, who knows!


End file.
